Do You Remember That One Case
by Audrey1
Summary: Mulder and Scully are stuck organizing files...why are Fudgsicles involved and who lives in that yellow house?


Our favorite basement office

One with lots of files

Lots and lots of files

Dusty ones

            "Mulder, why do we have to stay here so damn late tonight?"  Scully shot her partner a frustrated look.  "It's all your fault, you know."

            "Why, Scully.  I'm hurt."

            "Damn it, Mulder.  If you wouldn't piss Skinner off, we wouldn't have to stay and file every X-Files case by _date_!"

            "Well...OW!"  This as Scully smacked Mulder upside the head.  "What was _that_ for?"

            Scully glared at him for a minute.  "You know damn well what that was for."

            "Okay.  _Fine_ then."  They turned to their piles and began sorting.  Mulder pulled out a folder, flipped it open, and then closed his eyes.

            "Mulder?  Are you all right?"

            "Just taking a walk down Memory Lane, Scully.  You remember when we were in Arkansas that one time?"

            "How could I forget, Mulder?  They tried to cut my head off so that they could _eat_ me.  Or did you forget about that?"

            "Well, yeah, but they were nice people _before_ that.  I mean, we all sat around at the chicken plant eating Fudgsicles.  Remember?"  He looked at her, waiting for an answer.

            "Yeah.  Chocolate."  She gave him another look, licking her lips.  "Yummy."

            "'Yummy', Scully?"

            "Oh, shut up, Mulder."  They both resumed their categorizing.  "Hey."

            "What?"

            "Remember that one case in Comity with those two girls--Terri and Margi?"

            "_That_ was a weird one.  I felt weird that entire case."

            'So did someone else,' she thought angrily.  'Detective White this, Detective White that...'  "Why are you looking at me like that, Mulder?"

            "I just can't believe that you actually accused me of being 'macho'.  And it was just petty the way you shoved that Fudgsicle down the back of Detective White's shirt."

            "Well, Mulder, she had it coming after she agreed with you that my legs were too little to reach the pedals."

            "Point taken.  I'm just glad you didn't do that to me."

            "Oh, believe me, Mulder, I wouldn't have shoved it down the back of your shirt."  'Maybe someplace else, but not the shirt,' she thought to herself.

            They continued working in silence for a few minutes.  Then Mulder remarked, "Well, what about that Ed guy?  And his talking tattoo?"

            "Mulder," she sighed.  "You weren't even _there_.  What's your point?"

            "Well...you brought up the whole thing with Angela--"

            "_Oh_, so now we're calling her _Angela_, are we?"

            Mulder looked as if he was about to say something, but wisely decided against it.  "So, what did you two do?"

            "Nothing like what you're thinking, Mulder.  He took me to a tattoo parlor, and I got one.  Then it told me it was hungry, so we went to the grocery store and got a package of Fudgsicles.  Nothing much."

            "Oh, okay then."  Mulder looked relieved.  'At least she didn't hit me again.'

            'Damn.  He looks so smug, just sitting there, filing.  I should've smacked him.  Oh well.'  The two proceeded to file all their cases chronologically.

            Until Mulder opened his big mouth again.  "Hey, Scully."

            Irritated, she muttered, "What?"

            "Do you remember Padgett?"  '_Idiot_!  Of _course_ she remembers him.  He tried to steal her heart.'

            "Mulder--"

            "Never mind, Scully.  I shouldn't have brought that up."

            "No, Mulder.  It's okay."  She glanced at him.  "He was actually kinda cute before...you know."

            "Well, being a guy..."

            "_Mulder_!  Brat."  'But a _cute_ brat,' her subconscious reminded her.

            "I know what you meant, Scully."  'I almost always know what you mean.'

            "Mulder..."

            "Yeah, Scully?"

            "Thank you for staying with me, afterwards.  It meant a lot."  '_You_ mean a lot.'

            "You would've done the same for me.  You _have_ done the same for me.  One question, though."

            "Hmm...?"  She gave him The Eyebrow.

            "Who did Padgett have in mind, you think, when he said you were already in love?"

            '_You_, _you_, _you_,' she thought.  "Well...ummm..."

            "Never mind.  Hey!  You want to run down to the store and get some Fudgsicles?"

An Apartment

With a Bedroom

WITH a bed

With two sleeping people

            Dana Scully woke up with a start.  'Well, that was some dream,' she thought quietly.  'Almost had to answer his question...'  She turned her gaze to the man sprawled out next to her in the bed.

            "Hey, lover, wake up."

            Fox Mulder woke up with a soft groan.  "Well, if you don't move your foot, that's what'll happen."

            "Quit your complaining, hun.  I just had the strangest dream..."

            Fifteen minutes later, Mulder was shaking his head.  "That's just wrong, Scully.  I thought you only ate Nonfat Tofutti Rice Dreamsicles."

            She slapped his arm.  "_Mulder_!  You did _not_."

            "Well, that's what you had that one day...when you called me a cheat.  Remember?"

            "You know what, Mulder."

            "I'm not sure..."

            "I don't want this to be _total_ repeat of my dream..."

            "But..."

            "I'm craving a midnight snack.  What about you?"

            "You know, I think we have a box of Fudgsicles in the freezer."

            "Sounds good to me."  She caressed his face a minute.  "Be a good lover-boy and get them.  Then we'll have some fun."

            "Like a hot and cold treatment?"

            "Kinda, but without something hot..."

Mulder leapt out of bed.  "Be right back, babe."

A Yellow House

In the Countryside

With Two Stories

And Blue Trim

            "_Oh dear God_!!!!!!"  The woman woke up screaming.

            "What's the matter, sweetie?" her husband asked.  "Is it the baby again?  The doctor said any day now..."

            "No, it's not the baby, Jeffrey."

            "Then what's the matter?"  Jeffrey Spender turned to his wife.  "Honey?"

            "Nothing," she muttered.  'Nothing you'd understand.  _He_ understood.  But nooooo, _he_ didn't appreciate what _he_ had, and then _she_ came along...The bitch.'

            "C'mon, tell me," he coaxed gently.  "You can tell me, sweetheart.  Here, sit up."

            She did, reluctantly though, and continued to stay silent.  "Talk to me.  Please?"  She turned to face the wall, and he stared at her back.  "Sweetpea?"

            When she didn't answer, he placed his hands on her shoulders, and started to give her a back rub.  "Are you upset about the nursery?  I know you wanted it to be mint and charcoal, but your study is already that color scheme, and--"

            "No, Jeffrey.  It's not about the room.  I love the colors you picked out."

            "Then, what is it?"  She faced him, and he studied her eyes for some sign.  'What is she hiding?' he wondered.

            "I had a..."

            "What?  Hun, you're mumbling."

            "I had an awful nightmare, Jeffrey."

            "Well, if that's all..."

            "_No_, Jeffrey.  It had _him_ and _her_ in it."  She shuddered.  "I hate _her_."

            "Honey, if it was just a dream..."

            "Damn it, Jeffrey!  It was too real to be dream!  You never listen to me."

            "Diana, if you think _they_'re sleeping together, then why don't you call him?  It's probably eleven or so there."

            "You really think so?"  He nodded, and handed her the phone from the night stand.  "All right."  She dialed, and waited.

Another Apartment

In Town

With a Couch

And a Fish Tank

            The phone was ringing.  She fumbled around for it, and brought it to her ear.  "Hello?" she mumbled sleepily.

            "May I speak with Fox Mulder, please?"

            "May I ask who's calling?"

            "No, you may not.  Could I please talk with him?"

            Only because the voice on the other end sounded like person was crying did she say, "Okay, hold on."

            "Thank you."

            "Wake up, you big brat."  Dana Scully nudged the figure beside her on the couch.  "There's someone on the phone for you."

The Yellow House

In the Countryside

With Two Stories

And Blue Trim

            "Oh my god, Jeffrey," she wailed, "_She_'s there!  _She_'s at _his_ apartment.  This is _horrible_!"  She started sobbing.

            "Diana, sweetie, it's okay.  _They_ have _their_ lives, and we have ours.  Stop letting your hormones get the best of you."

The Apartment

In Town

With a Couch

And a Fish Tank

            "Who's it, Scully?"

            "I don't know, Mulder.  She didn't give me her name.  Here," she said, handing him the phone.

            "H'lo?" he said, not quite awake.

            There was a pause, then a hesitant, "Fox?"

            "Yes?  Who is this?"

            A whispered, "Fox, I wish the baby could've been yours..."

            "Diana?  Diana, is that you?"

            Dial tone.

"Well, I'll be...Scully, do you think they found her body?"

"Mulder, I told you they found her..."

"But that doesn't mean it wasn't faked.  I think that was her on the phone just now."

"If that's what you want to believe, Mulder.  I know she was important to you..."

"But you know what, Scully?  The key word is 'was.'  I'm glad to hear she's not dead.  But you're the important one in my life.  You have been for these past nine years."

"Oh, so you're counting the first two, huh?"

"Don't you?"

"You know it.  C'mon back to bed.  I've got a snack for you..."

"WOW, Scully!  Fudgsicles are my favorite!"

The Yellow House

In the Countryside

With Two Stories

And Blue Trim

            As she hung up the phone, she held back tears.  '_They_ sound so happy, damn it.  Why couldn't my life be like that?'

            "Diana, honey?  Did you hear what you needed to?"

            She nodded.  "Yes, sweetie.  I did."

            He smiled.  "Good.  Now _what_ were you thinking when you made that last comment?"

            "Nothing, Jeffrey, I--"  She stopped and looked down at her hands.

            "Go on, Diana.  What.  Did.  You.  Mean?"

            She glanced up and saw the anger in his eyes.  "I told you, _nothing_.  It didn't mean anything."

            "I don't think you're being completely honest with me, Diana.  Are you?"  He reached out and grabbed her throat lightly.  "You're not.  I can see it in those lying eyes of yours.  You're no better than my father.  And just look where _his_ lies got him.  'Fell' down a flight of stairs.  We _are_ on the second floor, you know."

            "Jeffrey, stop it.  Please.  You're scaring me."  She started to cry, and he pulled her close to him.  "Jeffrey..."

            "Don't 'Jeffrey' me, Diana.  It doesn't work, remember?"  He slapped her, and once again, the pattern of the last nine months continued.

            Before she passed out, Diana Fowley thought about how they'd faked her death.  'Damn Them.  I wish I _were_ dead.'


End file.
